


(Im) Perfect

by peanutbitter



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, OCD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-09 22:50:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanutbitter/pseuds/peanutbitter
Summary: Chanyeol would never step on the line at the sidewalk, would never paint out the line or eat something in the restaurant down the street.Perhaps Chanyeol would be forever labeled as abnormal, crazy, obsessive.Baekhyun wouldn’t change a thing.Baekhyun wasn't perfect, but his love for Chanyeol was the most pure feeling he’d ever felt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the cheesiest thing i have ever written (not really, i have worse ones).  
> For my mom, who has ocd. She won't read this, but the thought is here :)

It was 11pm.

The silence filled the room.

Chanyeol slept quietly besides him.

Chanyeol never snored.

.

It was seven o'clock on a Saturday morning when Baekhyun met Chanyeol.

Baekhyun didn’t count the hours, but Chanyeol bumped in him while counting the minutes.

.

At 7:05 Chanyeol looked at Baekhyun for the first time.

At 7:06 Chanyeol remained speechless.

At 7:10 Chanyeol said "Hi" for the twentieth time.

At 7:40, Chanyeol offered him coffee for the third time.

At nine o'clock, Chanyeol gathered, one by one, the cake crumbs scattered across the coffee table, placing them into a perfect mound on a napkin, wrapping the paper with no creases.

A year later, on a Tuesday of July Chanyeol removed the luggage from the trunk of the car, organized by size.

At three o'clock that day, Baekhyun realized he had made a decision with no return.

At six in the evening of Christmas Eve, watching Chanyeol patiently arrange the presents under the tree, Baekhyun first thought that this might not have been the right choice.

On New Year's night, while Chanyeol moaned above him, his big hands stroking his face tenderly, Baekhyun forgot he ever had another choice.

.

Baekhyun didn’t cook. Chanyeol always said Baekhyun was a mess when trying to cook.

.

Baekhyun was tired, but always waited patiently on his bed side while Chanyeol checked the locks throughout the house.

.

Baekhyun always waited for Chanyeol to turn on and off the light 19 times before going to bed, only to get up and then the turn the light on and off again "One more, Baek. To be even.”

Baekhyun knew he couldn’t be late for work, but always waited Chanyeol give him 14 goodbye kisses before leaving home.

.

Baekhyun got used to hearing whispers of people, hear advice.

Baekhyun got used to ignoring.

.

It was eleven o'clock when Chanyeol placed his arm around Baekhyun.

Baekhyun knew Chanyeol was awake.

-

It was 11pm and Chanyeol was awake.

Chanyeol counted. Days, hours, minutes, seconds. That’s why he became an accountant. It was still possible to find exact answers in numbers, despite the broken ones.

Chanyeol didn’t work on Saturdays, but he still woke up at five in the morning to go for walks. Chanyeol counted the minutes while walking, never coming home after eight.

It was at seven in the morning that his counting was interrupted.

It was at seven and five when he calmed down enough to see who made him stop.

At seven six Chanyeol stopped counting.

 

There was something about the boy in front of him, something that had silenced his mind for the first time.

 

His eyes were small and pulled down at the corners; the irises gleamed in the sun. Lips that wasn’t thin or thick, red like an apple.

Chanyeol found himself strangely attracted to the small pimple at the left side of his nose.

The "Oh God, I'm sorry!" That escaped the boy's mouth resounded in his head, a strong and melodious voice.

Chanyeol said hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi. Chanyeol said hi. Chanyeol said.

The boy laughed.

…Hi.

The cafe was noisy, and there was dust on the tables, but Chanyeol still managed to pay some attention, as in the way the boy was gesticulating while he spoke, and in his beautiful hands. That is, before returning to collect the crumbs at the table, because his brain seemed to scream for him to do that. It had always been like that.

Baekhyun.

Baekhyun.

Baekhyun.

Baekhyun.

Every step he took towards his home, Chanyeol repeated the name, now like sugar in his mouth. Chanyeol couldn’t really eat too much sugar, or he would be more electric than the normal. Baekhyun, he repeated at every step, how many times the name escaped him?

Once he arrived at his home, he got his socks off, putting them in the basket for washing.

And to complete his account, he said "Baekhyun" again.

528.

 

Chanyeol had sessions with a psychiatrist.

 

The first time he kissed Baekhyun was the second time that the voices in his mind had gone silent.

Chanyeol kissed him 13 more times after the first, concluding that the taste of Baekhyun’s mouth was better than the taste of detergent of the wipes that were in his pocket.

Those weren’t the first kisses of his life, but they were the first he didn’t felt the urge to clean his mouth afterwards.

 

Chanyeol enjoyed the Christmas and New Year.

Chanyeol liked to set the Christmas tree (two green pendants, a red one, a star, a yellow pendant, two green ones), liked the certainty that he would come out on the street and hear the same music, the same rhythms, and same notes.

Chanyeol liked the certainty.

Chanyeol liked the normal.

Chanyeol liked the sameness.

Chanyeol liked Baekhyun and knew that his feelings were mutual, but Chanyeol wasn’t sure if Baekhyun would be with him to celebrate all the Christmas that were to come.

Chanyeol liked how Baekhyun felt around him, the heat radiating from the small body. Chanyeol found perfection in the murmurs that Baekhyun let out while they made love.

 

Chanyeol wondered if those moments were also perfection to Baekhyun.

 

Chanyeol din’t to eat at restaurants.

 

Chanyeol said that no one could know how many germs were crawling through the dining table, much less in the kitchen. However, in a July 4, Chanyeol led Baekhyun to a restaurant.

It was a two years relationship, one year living together.

 

Chanyeol had not been able to eat, his mind busy inspecting the tablecloth, but he hoped Baekhyun had liked the food as much as Chanyeol liked the smile on his face when he saw the ring Chanyeol gave him.

 

Chanyeol knew that it wasn’t easy for Baekhyun.

 

Chanyeol had sessions with a psychiatrist, and was proud to tell at each section that what motivated him to seek treatment was the hope of one day being better for Baekhyun.

Being normal.

 

It was 11pm when Chanyeol rested his arm around Baekhyun. Eleven and three when he lifted his body, just enough to reach Baekhyun’s ear.

 

"I didn’t lock the doors."

 

-

 

It wasn’t only at 11pm, but at every minute that followed, that Baekhyun saw he had done, not the choice that many would deem right, but the choice that made him perfect.

Chanyeol was imperfect, but Chanyeol was perfection. Not the way he wanted to be.

Chanyeol was perfect in the way he prepared breakfast every day, with the heart-shaped toasts. Perfect in the way he kissed him over and over before he was satisfied because he believed Baekhyun deserved the best kiss, the perfect kiss. Perfect in how he was devoted in body and soul to Baekhyun, not submissively, but as if Baekhyun was the reason it was worth living for.

Chanyeol would never step on the line at the sidewalk, would never paint out of the line or eat something in the restaurant down the street.

Perhaps Chanyeol would be forever labeled as abnormal, crazy and obsessive.

Baekhyun wouldn’t change a thing.

Baekhyun was imperfect, but his love for Chanyeol was the purest feeling he’d ever felt. His love for Chanyeol was perfect.

It would be a long way in search of perfection, not the one that fills people's eyes and turn them obsessed, cold, but the one that would keep them together forever, the one that accept the flaws, because it was the small and large problems, cracks in their personalities and appearances, that made them perfectly capable of loving.

For knowing, accepting and loving the imperfection.

 

-

 

“You don’t need to, Chanyeol.”

“But I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Baek.”

“…”

“It’s good.”

 

-

 

Chanyeol’s shirt was rumpled and Baekhyun’s arms were still dirty with flour when he grabbed Chanyeol’s neck, happy because for once the other was not bothered with the mess and disorder, but with the kiss exchanged between the two in the midst of the messy kitchen.


	2. Love

Baekhyun knew exactly what love looked like.

_When he was 12 and in Kyungsoo's room on a hot summer day._

He knew that love was there, somewhere, only hidden from his eyes, difficult to conquer. But it would find him.

Love wore a sweater larger than his, which he would borrow several times until he didn’t have to give it back.

Love was intelligent, good with numbers.

Love cared about his well-being and encouraged him to always be his best version.

_Kyungsoo said that his vision of love was a perfect description of his mother._

 

Then, when Love had appeared, it had been a shock.

 

Love had narrow shoulders, a bowl cut and round rimmed glasses. Love was sarcastic, good at history and the arts, poor at math. Love stuck his face into a birthday cake.

Love was Kyungsoo, his best friend.

But Love, though so different, was affectionate when alone. Was encouraging in his own way. Love had made Baekhyun tell his parents that he would spend the night playing video games, but he wouldn’t, not really. Love was 16, as was Baekhyun. Love was reciprocal.

And Love had turned into just love again after three years. It had gone away like the gas of a coca cola left open for a long time, and Baekhyun had been slow to notice.

When love came back, older, it was _Love_.

 _Love_ would sing out of tune, snore all night long and eat peas with a fork while Baekhyun watched.

 _Love_ lit a cigarette on the porch and drank expensive beer.

It was, without a doubt, a different love. But it was not an impossible love, just...

Complicated.

Like eating peas with a fork.

 

When _Love_ was gone too, this time only a month after arriving, Baekhyun was not astonished. He just had an ice cream while watching a cheesy movie on his couch, the kind that he didn’t watch with _Love_ , who only enjoyed action and comedy.

After Love, _Love_ , L o v e, _Amore_ , Baekhyun had given up on his loves. No one was as he had expected, and now, as an adult, he knew that defining what love would be like made no sense at all. It still hurt, however, how easily it seemed for love to leave him him.

So when **Love** came, Baekhyun tried not to pay much attention.

Even though he was more different from the others, he had done what he could to not love too much, too soon.

 

 **Love** had very big ears.

 **Love** took longer to say something, pausing at every word and sometimes repeating a word or phrase several times.

 **Love** was terribly handsome.

 **Love** was terribly weird.

 **Love** had been inevitable, hard to resist.

And Baekhyun didn’t know if he really wanted to resist.

 **Love** had bulging eyes and a thick voice, appointments with a psychiatrist and an apartment so clean that it hurt his eyes.

More than this.

**_Love_ ** _wore a sweater larger than his own, which he borrowed several times until he had to return it._

**_Love_ ** _was intelligent, good with numbers._

**_Love_ ** _cared about his well-being and encouraged him to always be his best version._

Baekhyun had almost sent a text message to Kyungsoo, just to make it clear that **Love** was not his mother.

 **Love** came with a bag of emotions, but Baekhyun didn’t complain because he also carried one.

 **Love** made him happy.

For one, two, ten years.

 **Love** gave him the best of himself, even if he got up at dawn to check the locks on the door, **Love** always went back to the bed and hugged him tight.

 **Love** was affectionate and brought him breakfast in bed.

 **Love** was a bit nerdy, but he played guitar like a movie star from some foreign film, even though it took longer to tune the strings than to play the music.

 **Love** let him stain his nose with flour.

 **Love** had OCD.

 **Love** was Park Chanyeol.

 **Love** wouldn’t leave him.

 **Love** was perfect.

 

Park Chanyeol was perfect.

 

Perfect for all the requirements that Byun Baekhyun had written about love, at the age of 12, in Kyungsoo's room on a hot summer day.


End file.
